


The Grimm Dragon

by lilysmiles



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Bellatrix is Batshit Insane, By default, Dragons, F/M, Gen, M/M, POV Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Rebirth, Reincarnation, Self-Insert, So is Viserys, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:41:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29768769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilysmiles/pseuds/lilysmiles
Summary: Once a Grimm, always a Grimm, or so one would think. Or at least Bellatrix would like to think so. But someone obviously disagreed with her.Otherwise how did she come to inhabit the body of a little boy?Bellatrix SI into Viserys Targaryen
Comments: 38
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_Years earlier_

Bellatrix Lestrange let out something between a sob and a hysterical laugh.

She may have hated her husband.

She may have despised his brother.

She may have frothed at the mouth at the mere thought of her father in-law.

She may have raged at her parents for forcing her to go thru with this demeaning marriage.

She may have loathed the Lestrange family name. For she will never think of herself as anything but a _Black_. A Black she was born as and a Black she shall die. For her life is bleak and her actions as dark as her Black soul.

But she never, in all her hate for those around her ever wished for the death of her unborn child. It wasn’t her choice though. Because now, in the aftermath of the visit of the esteemed British Aurors, namely the Longbottoms, she is to cradle the body of her premature and thus stillborn child. But those monsters pretending to be Light, pretending to be in the right, pretending to have the morally high ground, didn’t care for that. In fact, they rejoiced at her baby’s death. Just because someone had spread around rumors that she is bearing the babe of the Dark Lord. Which she _wasn’t_.

So those two-faced paragons of the Light didn’t think twice before subjecting a pregnant witch to a Crucio. And they laughed the entire time at that. Laughed as she started bleeding. Laughed as she lost her baby. Laughed as they left. Because they knew they would get away unpunished. After all, who would ever believe the accusations of a family of Death Eaters against a well-known Light family?

But it is she who shall have the last laugh. Even if it’s one mixed with anguish. For she will take the Mark. She will do what she previously refused to in fear of the health of her baby. And she will make it so that the ones that had cost her her everything, will live to lose everything that matters.

And she had her revenge.

But it hardly mattered.

Not with her and her ‘beloved’ husband rotting away in Azkaban. Not with her younger cousin missing to be confirmed dead. Not with one of her sisters turned a muggle-lover and her other married into a family cursed to only have one child. Not with her blood-traitor of a cousin and the once upon a time heir of the Black family howling as the literal dog he turned out to be from the cell across from hers.

Not with all the Blacks that remained alive and free being beyond child-bearing age. Or sick. Or dying.

There weren’t any more Blacks out there anymore. 

Honestly, at the rate things were going, in all likelihood, the family fortune would go to some disgusting blood-traitor like the Weasleys. She could barely imagine the disgrace. If only, when the matter of lordship was decided, her family had chosen differently. If only, instead of selling her off into a marriage alliance that turned useless and even detrimental to their family, they kept her in the said family instead. Allowed her to go abroad for a Mastery in battle magics.

But it was not to be.

It could have been. If only she had been born a boy… if only…

But because they needed another pure-blooded broodmare for merchandise instead of a capable heiress, they didn’t even let her speak. They thought they knew better.

And they paid for it.

Not that it made her feel any better. Only justified. But then again, nothing at the time had been up to her.

And nothing still is.

For even out of Azkaban, she, like all the other Death Eaters is at the Dark Lord’s mercy. And while she may not be the epitome of sanity anymore, compared to him, she was the sanest in the country. Not that she would ever say such a thing to his ugly face. Not when the man, just like her disgusting husband has so much power over her. Not when her marriage vows force her to bow down in respect in moments where she wants to throw something. They force her to smile and proclaim her love and eternal devotion only because her dimwit of a husband believed the healer that proclaimed her barren and thinks she would serve House Lestrange better as the Dark Lord’s personal whore.

So truly, the only thing she can even do now that is of her own choice, is fight.

Fight with everything she has. Because she isn’t going back to Azkaban when the Dark Lord falls.

Although her ego could have gone without being felled by the likes of Molly Weasley.

***

Waking up after closing her eyes for what seemed like the last time was a shock. More so that it only meant that she was a captive. A captive she swore not to ever be again.

But perhaps fate had just decided to have a good laugh at her expense.

And fate certainly did.

But not in the way that she was expecting.

Because the room she opened her eyes to wasn’t just unexpected or unfamiliar. But _other_ in the way that the old rooms of Black Manor that has long since been abandoned for the much more approachable Townhouse weigh down on those descendants that dare venture inside. And she had dared. Not that she was deemed worthy for her courage. Because the weight and judgment didn’t subside. There was no feeling of warmth or approval. But then again, she was just another well-bred pawn. Nothing worthwhile. Perhaps, had she been the boy her parents had desired, it would have been different. But she wasn’t. Wasn’t male. Wasn’t worthy. Wasn’t good enough. And even if their family did have female Lords in the past, her parents along with her uncle and aunt hardly considered her for such a role.

But then again, going from their opinions, none of the so-called new generation Blacks were worthy of anything but be disposable pawns for the Dark Lord to use and throw away. It was as if their parents had decided to pursue pureblood ideals at the expense of their own blood and family.

And it made her sad.

Because surely now that the family home is infested with greedy blood-traitors that seek to lay their hands on the family coffers, the Black name is doomed. Even if the Potter boy somehow deigns to wake up and uptake the Lordship, his offspring, for surely he will marry one of those same blood-traitors, will be deemed unworthy.

Andromeda’s grandson may have been a candidate. But not with his grandmother disowned. And not without a proper education.

But if there is one thing she doesn’t regret, it’s the death of her niece. Because beneath the mental controls and potions, there was nothing there. Just a body following commands. Better death than such an existence in her opinion. She would know. Not that many would agree with her. But something like that, something that had likely been applied since childhood, was by now irreversible. How her sister could have missed the binds on her only child, Bellatrix would never know. But she does have suspicions. Not that anyone will ever know of those. Not that anyone will want to know…

If only she had been born a boy…

In that moment, she opened her eyes once more, resigning herself to meeting the danger head on. Like a foolish Gryffindor. But then again, sometimes such an approach is the most effective. Even if the Slytherin way is the one that holds the most dignity.

And it was in that moment that she realized that something was wrong. Because there was a blonde woman sitting next to her bed. Holding on to her hand like it was a lifeline.

At first she had mistook her for her _dear_ sister. For _Cissy_. But then she did a double-take. Because she hadn’t been this close to her sister since before her marriage. And while Narcissa and Lucius put on a good show, pretended that they were delighted to host her in their family home, she could see the veiled disgust hidden deeply within their eyes. The _contempt_. And sometimes the fear. One doesn’t know what to expect of a less than sane woman, after all.

And if there was one thing Bella didn’t think her sister would look at her with, it was contempt. But then again, so much time has passed. So many things missed while howling in her cell at the guards. But she played an insane psychopath for good reason. After all, who knows what that insane bitch, Lestrange, would do to guards that decided to have a good time with a pretty pureblood that was certainly in no condition to say no?

After she ripped out a throat or two with her teeth, they certainly didn’t dare to do _anything_. Going for the prettier boys like poor Barty.

But that hardly mattered to Narcissa, who didn’t care enough to send her imprisoned sister a single letter during her imprisonment. Who tried to forget her like a fleeting nightmare. Who had her own child now... A child Bella could never have. A child that no one would _ever_ mistake for a Black. Even a _half_ -Black. Because that pathetic creature was as far from the proud Blacks as the Earth was from the Moon. And honestly, so was Narcissa. Groveling at the feet of men because her own son was too weak for the real world…

But now that hardly mattered. Because the stranger before her wasn’t her sister. Wasn’t Narcissa. And now that she has gotten a good look at her, she can’t understand how she could have confused them.

Narcissa’s blonde for this woman’s silver. Narcissa’s Black grey eyes for this woman’s violet. And finally, Narcissa’s active magic presence with this apparent _squib_. 

But before she could open her mouth to demand an explanation. Because how dare some no-name squib tarnish her hands with her disgusting touch?!!! The woman let out a heart-wrenching sob that Bella recognized all too well.

After all, she had made such sounds once before.

Back when she lost her precious child…

And she didn’t have it in her heart to say a thing to someone who had obviously went through the same thing. She will give her comfort even if she has to bear with the inferior creature’s presence before sending her on her way. After all, no woman should ever go through something like that alone.

She would know…

But in the next moment she almost took her earlier thoughts back. Because the insolent squib reached over to press her hard into her own chest to sob into her hair. What once more stopped her words wasn’t her restraint, however. No. It was something else. Something much more worldly. And disturbing.

Because instead of seeing her familiar black curls, the long strands of Bella’s hair were the other woman’s straight silver. And the hands she readied to push the woman away were too small. And they sure as Death, weren’t hers!

But what finally anchored her to reality making her realize that it was no dream, of deathly hallucination on the other side, was a name.

“Viserys…” whispered by the woman between her hiccupped sobs.

A name that Bella now felt, had anchored her entire existence. A name that most definitely _wasn’t_ Bellatrix!

But it was her name now… for better or for worse.

They do say be careful what you wish for...

Because Bellatrix had gotten her dearest wish. Or what she _thought_ was her dearest wish. As when she looked down, she could see an extra body part that most certainly didn't belong. 

But it did. 

Because Viserys, and thus _Bellatrix_ , was now a _boy_.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Being the ‘Spare’ Prince, Viserys Targaryen was more than a little overwhelming. In _theory_. In reality, it plain sucked.

Not because her father in this life batshit insane. Pot. Kettle. _Black_. Even being born from incest wasn’t too bad. For any self-respecting pureblood, incest was just a way to keep the magic in the blood. It was only when a family practiced it for continuous generations and didn’t do the required rituals ( _which were all most certainly banned, so not practiced by the so-called ‘Light Wizards’… what kind of idiot even believes that magic has a color anyway?),_ did other purebloods look down upon them. So such a thing, when practiced was a well-kept family ‘secret’ that of course everyone in high society knew about but because it was covered by a thin veil of propriety, such things were only _known_. Not _discussed_.

So it was through such machinations that the mudbloods never knew that Orion and Walpurga were no cousins, but _siblings_. So closing her (or _his_ ) eyes to the marriage of Aerys and Rhaella was hardly an issue. Ignoring the fact that both were squibs and most certainly didn’t perform the necessary rituals before their marriage to negate the side-effects of their union in their offspring was a bit harder to process. Giving them the respect all parental figures must be given as enforced by her proper upbringing, was even harder. Especially considering that hearing her mother’s pained screams every time her father visited her rooms brought the painful memories of her marriage to the Lestrange heir to the surface.

Of course if she had her wand, it would have been a very different tale. But she didn’t. And more so, the magic of this world was different to that of her last. So instead of a wandless Imperio she _did_ know how to cast, like any Unspeakable, the servant targeted promptly caught on fire.

Oops?

It certainly _didn’t_ get her what she wanted. And didn’t endear her to the Court in the slightest. Starting the wild rumours ‘like father, like son’, ‘starting young’ and how little Prince Viserys has found a hobby of burning people…

Well…

There goes her chance to make friends in this childhood. 

Although there is something about burning people that excites her in this life. She can better understand her father now. So maybe the rumor-mill isn’t so wrong after all…

What annoyed her/him more than the constant surveillance and the inability to practice her mutated magic that for some reason only wants to produce levelled-up fire spells, was another member of the family. Her/his brother’s wife.

Elia _Martell_.

For here he has to agree with Aerys. Elia is no dragon.

And shall never be one. And would never let her children be such. Not if she could help it.

She was too much like Narcissa for Viserys’s liking. A two-faced snake in the grass that slithered into the nest and pretended to be family but failed to act when it truly mattered and when it wasn’t expected from her by society.

So for all that Viserys was disgusted at his father’s disregard for regular bathing and up-keeping his pureblood Valyrian looks, he didn’t protest when Aerys had moments of excessive fatherly love. More so that he listened to his mother’s delirious speeches when she thought no one could hear her.

The first one he had heard was on the second night of coming to. Or coming back to? Or coming back to life?

Honestly, now that he thinks about it, he feels that no one would have been surprised had he succumbed to his illness. Because out of all the children of Aerys and Rhaella, most had been stillborn or died as babes. A child to live after it had been so long after the birth of the heir was nothing less than a miracle.

The Queen certainly thought so.

And so did the Court.

But other than his parents in this life, not even his elder brother who was spouted to be the honorable one, cared if he lived or died. And from his mother’s hysterical ramblings, he could very well guess why…

“…If only I had birthed him a sister… no, a living, breathing sister, who continued to live and breathe. For I had birthed many. But none had lived to see beyond their first few name days. I have failed my Rhaegar so… so that he had to condole with a Viper… And for all that a Viper has the scales, it lacks the wings and the fire… Oh, I am mean to Elia so… poor Elia… But she is a Viper… As Aerys thinks a Mummer’s dragon… The way he looks at Rhaenys… oh the way he looks at her… Mayhap you shall marry her my love? For I fear I shall fail you just like your brother… a niece isn’t a sister but closer than a stranger… it may work… For Aerys loves you… For you are the only one he loves… after Joanna. For he doesn’t love me. And never did…

Oh, Joanna…

Why did I tell mother and father that Aerys planned to marry her? That he meant to shun our betrothal? Mayhap I was spiteful… That Aerys didn’t deserve happiness as long as I couldn’t have mine… That if can’t have my knight, he shan’t have his Lion… Mayhap I wanted to be Queen… No, I _wanted_ to be Queen, _yearned_ to be… But where has that got me? Nowhere… One friend turned rival, turned a woman scorned, married off to her own besotted cousin to hide her disgrace… another, a true Queen in her own right whose daughter married my son. For I picked a side, picked between them to get back at a woman long in the ground… for it was I who whispered into my brother’s ear… For Lions aren’t worthy of a match with dragons. Too ambitious. Too prideful. Too vain…

But you my dragon? You shall have it all… The freedom your elder brother shall not have because of kingly duty… the dragon bride he is too old to have…

If only Aerys shall drop dead to make me happy… I would be the happiest woman in Westeros… on _Planetos_ … But alas, so far he is only good at making me miserable… Why had I wanted to be Queen anyway? Not to be locked away in the Maiden vault, that’s for sure…”

So one thing is for certain, my mother is just as, if not _more_ raving mad than my father. She just hides it better. I am the only one who gets to see her madness firsthand. Not even Elia is prone to that.

Elia is a different story entirely…

A beautiful Princess on the outside, but on the inside?

Viserys honestly couldn’t say. Perhaps he was just biased. But he didn’t like Elia. He liked her children just fine. But not her. Although perhaps it was the dragon blood talking. Or the fact that among a family of squibs, she was the only muggle. _Disgusting_.

To him, Rhaenys was a ray of sunshine. Her calling her kitten Balerion and pretending it was a baby dragon. _Adorable_. He could even tolerate her calling him ‘Vissy’. A nickname that made him contemplate murder. Especially considering its likeness to ‘Cissy’.

Aegon was just as, if not _more_ adorable than Rhaenys. And had Viserys not complained to his father about Elia keeping him away from the baby, he is afraid the most he would have seen of his nephew would have been his striking silver hair sticking out of a blanket at formal dinners. But even so, the Dornish woman had took to watching him like a hawk. As if he was some blood-traitor that would harm a babe of his own blood!

Her _insolence_!

The _audacity_! 

That he didn’t squash Draco Malfoy like the traitorous, cowardly gnat he was must surely show his appreciation for family! He is safe around babes! He even didn’t bash the baby Longbottom’s head in when he had the chance!

So why does some muggle trash have the insolence to think that he would hurt Aegon?! His own baby nephew?!

Honestly, he feels that Elia deserved Rhaegar leaving her. If Lyanna Stark turns to be squib or a witch over muggle Elia, Viserys may have even praised him for the decision. But he _wouldn’t_. Because chasing after a better-blooded bride is _understandable_. But only _before_ marriage! And not at the expense of your own children! Or their legitimacy!

How it hurt him so, to explain to a crying Rhaenys, that _no_ , daddy _won’t_ read her a story or tuck her into bed anymore. And not because he is busy. Well he _is._ Getting _some_ between some Northern whore’s skirts. Because said whore has ambitions to be Queen and Rhaegar wants ‘better’ children. Which is kind of understandable. Because while Rhaenys and Aegon seem to have magical cores, they are likely to be squibs. But even so, until they at least turn eleven, he couldn’t know for _certain_. Especially not with Aegon who is a literal baby that pathetic excuse of a father has only seen _once_! And it’s not like Rhaegar could judge, being a squib _himself_!

And even squibs have their use!

They could brew potions, conduct rituals and access bloodline gifts!

Honestly, for all the rumors that flew around their family, they had _never_ thrown out their squibs! Unlike those ‘just’ and ‘good’ Weasleys! _Yes_ , their squibs had little to no rights or say in family matters. But honestly, neither did true-blooded, magical Blacks like herself! The squibs may have been looked down upon, but they had never been thrown out!

Because the Blacks weren’t some blood-traitors!

But it looks like her brother of this life certainly _is_!

And what hurts even more, is looking at Rhaenys. Because the girl looks so much like Bellatrix as a child. With her dark curls and dark indigo eyes… Had her skin been any lighter than her olive sheen, she could have passed for Bella’s long-lost twin. And her parents’ treatment of her was so very familiar as well…

Because when Bellatrix proved to be a disappointment to Cygnus Black by being born without a penis, he, just like Rhaegar, _also_ strayed. Oh, he most certainly didn’t marry the foolish little half-blood that thought herself as worthy competition for the pure-blooded Druella Rosier, but he still _strayed_. Like some flea-infested alley-cat, her mother would viciously hiss.

What made it worse was that his paramour was half-Selwyn. Begotten on some Imperioed muggle woman in all likelihood knowing that family, but half-Selwyn nonetheless. So Bella’s disgraced mother couldn’t even slip the girl some poison like she would have done to a no-name mudblood.

So instead of getting back at those who truly deserved it, Druella Black nee Rosier chose a different approach. A more _vicious_ approach. For she whispered poison into her daughter’s ears. If only to feel a bit better. Even at her daughter’s expense. How it’s all Bella’s fault. How she is a disappointment. That even her own father doesn’t want her. How he couldn’t even find it in himself to look at her. How he seeks to replace them…

So when Viserys found Rhaenys hiding behind a tapestry in tears, whispering the poisonous words Bellatrix herself had been more than familiar with, he didn’t hesitate to act.

He did as he should have done in his previous life and gone straight to the Head of House.

He went straight to Aerys.

And he didn’t regret it.

Not. One. Bit.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aerys's point of view. Not sane.  
> Note: I am not bashing Elia. She is just a scared, isolated woman with no one but her daughter to talk to. and Viserys is a muggle-hater.

Chapter 3

If one listens to anyone in Westeros, hears the whispers that get louder the further one travels from the Red Keep, then they will know of the Mad King. The Crazy King. The Insane King.

King Aerys II Targaryen, to be precise.

But they only heard good things about his heir.

Until recently, that is.

Until the Crown Prince of Westeros rode past his own lawful wife to Crown a girl promised to another. A girl, that likely hadn’t even bled. A child, really. Betrothed to his own cousin.

They say that when he Crowned Lyanna Stark as the Queen of Love and Beauty, all the smiles died. And that is true. But when the Crown Prince and the said girl disappeared shortly after? That’s when the rumors went _wild_.

Aerys would have wanted to believe the best in his heir, had he not seen Rhaegar for what he truly was. A power-hungry fool with his head stuck in the clouds. After all, who else would chase after some dubious prophecy? But that same fool was on his way to usurping his throne. That made him a dangerous fool.

A dangerous fool he always had watched.

So he was one of the first to find out about the ‘marriage’ to the Wolf Bitch. And the attempt to divorce the Dornish whore. Not that he doesn’t agree on that one. But she was the only reasonable choice when it came to brides with dragon blood in their veins. Their children should have been true dragons. Even though inferior ones.

But he only needed to take a look at their eldest to _know_. Know that the girl even _smells_ Dornish! Although her eyes do speak of her dragon blood so perhaps she will suffice as a wife for Rhaegar’s second brat. Not Viserys though. Never Viserys. He deserves a true dragon bride, not some Dornish bastard. And it was that look at Rhaegar’s offspring, that had once more awoken the suspicions that he tried to lay to rest so long ago. That Rhaegar is no son of his! For surely with his own son, he would feel a connection? He does with _Viserys_!

Adding to that Rhaella’s stillbirths and sickly children after that one child that was _supposedly_ his heir… And she was so very close to that Summer Knight that Crowned her at that tourney… Mayhap their lustful looks his _sweet_ sister thought he didn’t see, bore more fruit than he initially thought.

But to think of their audacity!

The Crown Prince, a _Bastard_!

The _daring_!

So when Rhaegar ran for that Wolf Whore of his, it made Aerys gleeful. After all, he couldn’t remove _supposedly_ his heir out of the line of succession without consequences. _Previously_. After all, none would think that a Valyrian-looking Rhaegar could be a bastard ( _fortunate for his ‘heir’_ ). But the brat had obviously took after his mother! Had he not, and her lies and infidelities would have been exposed so very long ago!

But now, with the outrage of the Lords, he would have their full support to foil Rhaegar’s foolish plans to usurp him. Now nothing will start in the way of placing his _true_ child, Viserys, as his heir! An heir that already makes him so proud! An heir that has definitely take after him, his father and not his useless moping whore of a mother. How proud he was to hear about Viserys burning that servant to death! His child! His boy! A true dragon! At last!

They shall burn!

They shall _all_ burn!

The Dornish! The Lannisters! The Baratheons! The Tully! The Starks!

Although he shouldn’t have burnt the Starks to their deaths _immediately_! Should have kept them as hostages against other savages! Left them to suffer…

But when he ordered their deaths, he was so, _so **angry**_!

How could he not be?

For Rhaegar could be a bastard, but even then, he is still a dragon! So what right do those barking dogs have, to demand a _dragon’s_ head?! Even if that dragon is only _half_! The official Crown Prince’s head?!

And while he did have a punishment in mind for Rhaegar, he wouldn’t allow some insolent brats to think that they could order _him_ around! That they could get away with it! And while he could understand the monetary worth of the Wolf Bitch’s untouched cunt, he couldn’t understand why they made such a scandal out of it not being so anymore! After all, every single Lord with eyes at that thrice damned tourney had their proof! The whore was pretty much asking for it! Taking that flower crown while dreams of the real thing were visible in her eyes for all the Realm to see! Thinking that her filthy wolf blood was good enough for anything but to serve as a temporary good time! And no matter his own opinion of the Dornish whore Rhaegar had to marry for the lack of better options and the small amount of dragon blood in her filthy veins, that Martell snake was a hundred times better than some savage wolf whore!

Oh, if Lyanna Stark had guarantees of becoming Crown Princess in the Martell’s stead, she would have taken off her dress, lifted her tail and spread herself open for the entire of Westeros to see! But if indecent exposure could warrant a Royal Marriage, Tywin would have stripped his own daughter and put her on her hands and knees before Rhaegar if needs must, back when that insolent servant was still his Hand!

So even if he was ready to pay for the girl’s questionable chastity and even label her Rhaegar’s official mistress, he would have _never_ made him pay with his life! Because if fooling around with a highborn girl out of marriage was a crime punishable by death, there would have been no Lords left in all of Westeros!

But what he most definitely didn’t expect, was for the Lord Paramounts to call their banners! And all in that ‘Arryn’ alliance he found so suspicious before. For if they didn’t plan their Rebellion long ago, he would eat his official tunic! Two fosterlings of Great Houses with Arryn, the engagement of the Stark girl! And now two marriages with Tully!

And if it couldn’t t get any worse, his official ‘heir’ goes and tries to dissolve his official and more importantly, fruitful marriage for his Northern Whore and her bastards! And if there is one thing he would never stand for, it is crowning some Wolf Bitch as the future Queen of Westeros!

But he was fortunate to find out when he did. Especially since he found out of Rhaegar’s folly before the Dornish. Because he might want them all to burn in the flame of the dragon when they woke _his_ , but he wouldn’t or _couldn’t_! Not when they gave part of their army into the dragons’ command. He wouldn’t allow them reason to take their Dornish Whore and label the half-dragons as bastards to then act justified, insulted and wronged while stealing house Targaryen’s dragon blood and then having them run around as some Sands. Or worse, try to legitimize them as _Martells_!

So what if he meant to keep the Dornish Whore as hostage in the capital along with her two whelps under constant watch? He was already removing Rhaegar from the line of succession in favor of Viserys and fully legitimizing the half-dragons so that none could claim them to be illegitimate when the ‘marriage’ with the Wolf Whore comes to light before all of Westeros! What more could those Dornish possibly want? Or _deserve_?!

Yes, they wouldn’t have their blood on the Iron Throne. But it’s not like half-dragons are worthy of it anyway! They should be satisfied at mixing their filthy blood with the true dragon blood and proud of it! Not demanding more benefits and concessions!

And now he had to send his true child away from him to Dragonstone in case those disgusting Dornish try something! And send Rhaella off with him for company! Rhaella, whose useless womb is proving to be as barren as a desert and thus has little use for him in the Red Keep! Not when she has proven time to time again that she is incapable of birthing a pure dragon princess!

But it was Viserys, his true heir that put a dent into his perfect plans…

He didn’t like it that his true heir grew closer with the half-dragon girl. He would never marry him to a half dragon! Unless completely out of options! But hopefully the Velaryons or the Celtigars would deign to pop out a dragon bride in the next few years. And hopefully, having the right incentive, _they will_.

Honestly, he couldn’t care less of stories of the girl’s tears and hurts. After all, true dragons must be feared, not fear themselves. True dragons must not be touched by something as stupid as opinion of another that isn’t even a dragon. Another sure way he knew of Rhaella’s dalliance and Rhaegar’s true origins! After all, that boy was always so susceptible to opinions!

But when he heard that it was the Dornish Whore that told the half-dragon that she is not a dragon, that she would prefer her to be a bastard Sand from a Martell, he was furious. But when he heard that the bitch is isolating Aegon, the only one of the litter that actually looks like a dragon, from his true family, just as she was teaching her daughter to shun her dragon blood, he was positively _livid_!

So in that moment, most of his plans concerning the Dornish Whore went out the window.

For the ungrateful bitch shall stay isolated in her rooms. A hostage. Just in case.

And her children?

The half-dragons?

They shall be sent to Dragonstone with their true family. Hopefully that will be enough to cauterize whatever influence their filthy mother had on them.

He trusts Viserys to make sure of it.

And his one true son will succeed.

For he is true blood of the dragon.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Finding out about the sack of Kingslanding hardly stirred any feelings within him. Only his father’s death managed to invoke some kind of passing sadness. Even Elia’s rape and murder failed to bring out any kind of reaction. Because he had no time for it. He was _busy_.

For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why a family of mages had if not abandoned, than neglected their own family manor! A family manor with everything any pureblood could ever wish for! With magical defences that just need to be activated! A family manor that obviously hides the altar of the Targaryen family. Because obviously the Targaryens, while being a minor family of the Forty, were still mages. Otherwise, how would they have successfully commanded dragons?! And having enough time and a warning, it was hardly surprising that the family had relocated everything of value to Dragonstone, which was more of a getaway residence than a home. A home that while still held its magic and secrets, was neglected to say the least.

He would have never committed such a travesty! Because his stupid ancestors had not only exchanged a perfectly defendable and fortified family nest for a stinking cesspit, but failed to upkeep its magical contours and protective runic structures that the Red Keep, he could tell from experience, definitely _did not have_! And while the runic structures were definitely foreign and had little in common with the High Valyrian he was taught, they were very much functional! If inactive from the lack of energy and neglect.

So really, it was only a point of finding the ritual chamber and the altar as well as the ward stone to make Dragonstone a completely impenetrable fortress. And while becoming the official head of the family is usually done after the age of magical majority, he had an excuse.

So-called special circumstances…

The smart thing to do for any child, would have been to tell his mother. To get her on-board. But that meant a risk of her becoming the magical Head of House instead of him. Losing his say in anything and _everything_! Because regardless of common misconceptions, a squib could very well become one. A head of House only needed to be able to conduct certain rituals after all. Magical prowess mattered for social standing. Not for _that_. In fact, in his previous life, there were entire magical families and lines that were made up entirely of squibs. And he had long ago forgone the ‘sharing is caring’ logic. In his first childhood, actually. Because it would get him nowhere in either life. He preferred the ‘first come, first served’ and ‘finders, keepers’.

So the only thing stopping random distant relatives with excessive ambitions for trying to become the House Head over the official Heir was the presentation of the said heir to the altar and family magics during the previous Head’s life. And with Aerys being an oblivious squib, none of those things had obviously ever happened. _Thankfully_. Because had any bastard Blackfyre known of the opportunity of a relatively bloodless way to subjugate House Targaryen, their family would have been history a very long time ago.

But finding the ritual chamber of Dragonstone was an easy thing to say. Not an easy thing to do. Because thinking that the Heir Apparent for the Iron Throne be without guards or constant supervision wasn’t just naïve. It was Ludacris. Especially with his mother’s every-increasing paranoia. And foolish actions.

Because being Crowned by his mother, who in her insanity thought it was a wonderful idea to use her Queen-Consort headpiece thus making him laughingstock to anyone with any kind of analytical thinking or a brain (namely _him_ ), was simply cringe-worthy. So now, every time he is addressed as ‘His Royal Highness, King Viserys, the Third of his Name’, there is only so much he could do to keep a straight face. Because that isn’t actually his true title. Not even close. Nor will it ever be, thanks to his own mother’s ~~stupid~~ swift actions. So in truth, he is forever stuck as ‘His Royal Highness, Queen Viserys, the First of his Name’ (because there was simply no other such _idiot_ during the entire history of House Targaryen to achieve this dubious ‘honor’) to anyone who would put two and two together. But hopefully they won’t. Because people have always been good at fooling themselves and seeing only what they want to see. Bella’s Azkaban breakout and her ‘ _Lord’s_ ’ resurrection which wasn’t acknowledged until it was simply too late, comes to mind.

So hopefully, the people of Planetos would take a page out of Magical Britain’s book. Because collecting titles of dubious worth is the prerogative of idiots, Heroes, Dark Lords and those who possess overinflated egos in hand with a love to stroke them. And thankfully, he cannot associate with any of those categories.

But in order to complain for having being fitted with stupid titles, Viserys Targaryen first had to survive. And that was a problem.

On one hand, he was now the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms. He had Dragonstone, the ancestral seat of House Targaryen under his hand and the entirety of the Royal Fleet. On the other? He was nobody, really. He had no support due to the foolish actions of both his father and elder brother. His mother was a mad woman. And of the Kingsguard, there was only Ser Darry remaining loyal and on-hand with the other members either turned traitors or fucking off to Merlin knows where. And the remaining ‘loyal’ lords and servants were only awaiting for the opportunity to sell them all out to the Usurper. The only thing that stopped them, was Dragonstone’s remote location and the distance from the Baratheon forces. Which would hardly be a problem for much longer. To add to that, who would ever even treat a Boy-King seriously?

So Viserys took to sneaking out through the window in his room during the nights.

Of course, what he was doing was beyond dangerous, considering that his quarters were located in one of the towers and the castle itself, on a cliff. But it wasn’t like he had much of a choice. Out of the tunnels that he found, only one was anywhere near his room. And even then, not actually in it. Probably because the tower was added after the castle had already been completed. _Way_ after…

And most certainly much later than any magical defenses and triggers were ever added. During the reign of Aegon the Unworthy kind of ‘later’. Hence the lavishness paired with the absolute uselessness of his new chambers. Chambers, that were naively considered ‘the best’ by the ignorant muggles and squibs that made up his family’s entourage.

So he had to have the ‘comfort’ in knowing that the place he was to sleep in, is virtually the only place in the entire castle that wouldn’t obliterate an assassin coming for his blood on the spot with some well-placed blood protections and had no emergency getaways to speak of. And that would hardly change. Even after he becomes the official Lord. Unless of course he gets onto his hands and knees and extends the already existing runic protections manually. More so, runic protections, written in a language he most definitely doesn’t understand. Because High Valyrian is one thing. But the magical variant of it that was more likely than not kept a well-guarded secret among the Houses of the Valyrian Empire, is completely another.

So good luck to him.

He will most certainly need it.

***

Strangely enough, the idea that the placement of the ritual chamber might differ from the typical norm he was used to from his previous life, didn’t occur to him until several months into his search. Several months of being constantly grumpy from a continuous lack of sleep. Several months of dodging the questions of an inquisitive Rhaenys of the kind of ‘Where is Mummy?’ and ‘Where is Daddy?’

How he wasn’t driven up a wall from frustration, he would never know.

Exploring the lower floors was so obvious in its simplicity that he shouldn’t have done it. Because looking for the ritual chamber and the power source of Targaryen Family Magics in the basement proved a useless waste of time.

Because for all that he found a few un-plotted torture dungeons, some even still containing their skeletal inhabitants, even a literal sex-dungeon that brought all kinds of weird questions on the topic of his ancestors’ dubious sexual practices to the surface, and on top of that, finding a few caches made both by the Targaryens and _not_ , with the first few even containing some dragon eggs that still felt warm to the touch, he couldn’t find the ritual chamber. Because like the stereotypical thinker that he secretly was, he could never even suspect that some suicidal idiot would ever dare to think of ‘harnessing’ the power emitted by a natural source.

Namely a _volcano_.

A volcano located here, at the very heart of _Dragonstone_!!!

Because if there was one thing that Bellatrix was diligently taught of by her parents when tutored on the History of Magic (because Binns and his teaching or its lack, was the butt of every Hogwarts joke in Magical Britain), it was the mistakes made by their ancestors and the reasons for the destruction of Ancient Magical Empires. Namely, Atlantis, whose mages had _thought_ that it was a _wonderful_ idea to harness a Great Whirlpool. Oh, initially they _had_. Or they _thought_ they had. But eventually, something obviously went very wrong. Because one day, Atlantis was simply wiped off the plane of existence. Another real-life, historical example hitting much closer to home was Pompeii, with its magical source being within the Mount Vesuvius. Which ended famously. And rather _badly_. _Obviously_ …

And the Empire of Valyria was simply a repeat of that.

So it was understandable that Viserys was very unhappy in that moment.

Honestly, who even would be?!

If there is a single person in the world that would like to find out that they have been living _literally_ on top of an active volcano that could erupt at any given time, Viserys would be _very_ surprised. _Very_. _Surprised_.

 _Very_.

Honestly, just because they had affinity to fire, did his Valyrian ancestors _have to_ use probably the most volatile thing in this world they could find as a power source? Did their greed know no bounds?! Because a volcano, while powerful is probably the most unpredictable thing in existence. Being untamable in the long run just adds to the danger.

Why could they not have used a large stone or something?!

After all, the House motto is ‘Fire and Blood’! Why not focus on the Blood and not the Fire?! Why take everything so literally?!

After all, a motto usually has a much different meaning from the commonly thought! Taking the Black House words for example. ‘Always Pure’. Oh, they very much were pure-blood supremacists. Viserys won’t even try to argue that one.

But the true meaning of those words was much more terrifying than anyone knew.

After all, their family altar only accepted sacrifices of the most pure of blood.

The enemies of House Black of course. Enemies that usually never lived for long.

As it should always be….


End file.
